


Goodbye Apathy

by werewindle



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: HP: EWE, Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/M, Male Solo, Merry Month of Masturbation Challenge, Pining, Pre-Slash, UST
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-04
Updated: 2015-08-04
Packaged: 2018-04-12 22:26:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4497054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/werewindle/pseuds/werewindle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco escapes a party to take care of a little <i>problem</i>. Meanwhile... Harry gets worked up after following Draco into a stairwell. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Unrepentant smut for the merry month of may.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. So long fancy free

Draco closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the wall. “Damn, bloody Potter anyway!” The Slytherin cursed. His stupid eyes, and his stupid hair and his absurd shy smile – how could anyone that growled and smirked and snarled so still contort their mouth into such a happy moue and not look fake. Somehow the Gryffindor had ruined Draco's carefully affected mask of indifference in the mere week they'd been back at Hogwarts. What had made Draco think that this Eight Year business was a good idea anyway? 

A vision of his mother sitting at the dinning table, surrounded with scrolls from eligible witches – like some absurd marriage CV – her careful blue script ticking down the margins. 

Oh, yes. A wedding or a graduation. Narcissa's new mantra. Draco was an upstanding adult and he needed to prove that to the wizarding world. So, she decreed, either he needed to be responsible and finish his education or marry and start putting down roots. 

Mothers. 

Draco shifted restlessly against the rough masonry in the hidden stairwell willing his arousal to fade. He could have held out at the Eight Year's soiree if it were not for the blatant erection. Maybe had he been less well proportioned, or his dress robes a little more generously cut...

At least he'd escaped before anyone took notice. Draco tried thinking unsexy thoughts but no matter how vile the notion, lurking underneath was the image of Potter with his robes abandon, body outlined in painted on leather. 

Draco groaned and gave up. He cast warning spells at the landing above and below so he wouldn't be surprised. Not that Draco thought anyone else knew about the stairwell, he certainly hadn't told anyone, but a little paranoia was good for the soul. 

He made quick work of this dress-robe's buttons, tucking the sides under his hips so they wouldn't be in the way. He jerked open the laces of his trousers and shoved them down. Draco's movements were rough and almost too fast – this wasn't exactly the venue for a leisurely wank. Draco lost himself in a fantasy of Potter. 

The Gryffindor pealing himself out of that leather outfit. Begging Draco to touch, laying down on a bed -Draco's bed, Harry's voice demanding and needy, shaggy hair whipping around as he tossed his head. Draco's hips jerked as the voice changed, a long forgotten memory of Potter speaking parseltongue surfacing. That breathy hissing had captivated Draco even at twelve. 

Draco tightened his fingers, moving over himself faster, swiping the drops of precome from his head down the shaft. The friction lost some of it's burn. Draco was so close. Behind his eyelids Harry writhed on the bed, golden skin glowing against the black sheets, fingers hidden as he stretched himself for Draco. The world went white as Draco came, the sound of his heart beating too loud in his ears. Daydream-Potter pouted and rolled into the dark sheets as the fantasy faded away. 

Draco's breathing evened out and the sounds of the castle filtered back in. The echo of footfalls had him pulling his robe around himself, eyes searching the dim light of the stairwell to the lower landing before the treads turned out of sight around the corner. He could have sworn he'd heard footsteps on the stairs just then. Draco relaxed after a moment. His warning spells hadn't been tripped and they were nearly impossible to get by. It was probably just some fools disturbing the suites of armor in the hall below.


	2. Nice Guys Finish Last

Harry slipped through the scattered crowed in the hall outside the ball room where the Eighth Years were holding their party. It was the same one Slughorn had used years ago, though Harry thought the decoration committee had done a much more tasteful job spiffing it up than Sluggy had. He sighed. Thoughts about the decor were just not distracting him from what he'd seen in the stairwell.

The whole thing was a little more reckless than Harry expected from Malfoy these days. The urge to follow Draco when he left the party was an old impulse left over from their pre-victory rivalry. Harry had gone with it because the party was boring and Draco was … entertaining. 

The sight of his oldest rival wanking was shocking to say the least. Harry had noticed the warning spell but it was sloppily done and he easily bypassed it by merely leaning around the corner rather than standing on the last three stairs before the landing. It had put Draco's groin at eye-line making it hard not to notice, not to stare. 

Harry had thought about turning right around and leaving but his feet wouldn't cooperate. Then the longer he stayed the less blood he had to think with. Draco was beautiful with his head thrown back baring his neck. The blond's thin white shirt was nearly translucent and when he shifted Harry could see the blush of copper marking Draco's nipples. 

It was a much more erotic sight than Harry was able to cope with. 

He was fully, painfully, hard under his leather jeans instantly. If he'd been able to move his feet Harry would have leaped the stairs and flung himself at Malfoy. Not that he would have had much of a chance to get his hands on all the tantalizing bits of Draco he wanted to. Draco would have probably thought it an attack and fought him off. 

He'd almost bitten through his lip when Draco moaned his name as the blond came. The sound was utterly wanton and it took long moments before Harry gained enough brain cells to leave the stairwell. 

It didn't take Harry long to get to his dorm room, thankfully everyone else was occupied elsewhere. Flashes of Draco were rolling though his mind and Harry hadn't calmed down in the slightest on the way back. 

He stripped hurriedly and flung himself on to his bed, casting a ward to keep his roommates out. Harry grabbed his dick and let the sight from earlier drive him to a frenzied completion. It wasn't perfectly satisfying but Harry was a teenager and had the recovery time to prove it. Barely minutes later he not only his breath back but the start of an erection. 

This time Harry dribbled a little oil on his palm and put his imagination to work. Draco was flexible and toned from Quidditch, leaving all sorts of possibilities open. Harry wondered if Draco would object to wearing a collar? Maybe a jeweled one. Yes. With a short leash. Then Harry wouldn't have to worry about someone else trying to get Draco into bed. 

Harry let his mind wander down the fantasy a while. Dressing Draco up in revealing outfits, chaining him up to the bed, making the Slytherin sit on his lap. 

Oh. What an image. Harry's hand moved faster stroking himself firmly now, the other stealing up to pinch a peaked nipple. Draco would look divine ridding Harry's cock. And Harry could nibble at that taunting curve of Draco's neck, maybe place a nice big mark on the nape. 

Harry shuddered and bucked the thought of marking up all that pale skin driving what was left of his mind into a pleasured haze. Harry came with a strangled cry and lay panting idly tapping against his stomach as he made plans to get Draco to become his bed toy. He was sure he'd seen the perfect collar in one of the Black vaults...


End file.
